Slave to the Heart
by Foxy-Scarecrow
Summary: The Prince of Hueco Mundo is bored. His parents want him married off, but he finds them all uninteresting. He takes a vacation arranged by his friends to get away from the palace. He finds out what supports his kingdom and eventually meets a certain orange haired slave who despises him, considering he is the Crown Prince, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Under rework lmao.
1. Escape

Slave to the Heart

_Summary_

_The Prince of the Kingdom of Hueco Mundo is bored, and his parents want him married off to some random princess so they could ensure the blue-blooded line would continue. However, he finds everyone boring. But that's until he sets off on a vacation, away from the kingdom he had lived all his 22 years. He finally sees what has been running the kingdom since it was built and he is more than surprised. So when he meets one orange headed slave out of a million, he isn't surprised when the slave despises him, the supposed heir to the throne, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. __**Subtle medieval setting, slight OOC.**_

Grimmjow sighed for the umpteenth time as he slumped into his chair at the dining table, knowing and dreading the lecture he knew would assault him the second his parents arrived. He wore a tight gold and red buttoned shirt that reached up to his neck, the top button left undone. A furlined shimmery brown coat and black jeans completed his outfit He didn't care for princely airs or graces. Soon, two royally dressed figures swept into the room. Michiko Jaegerjaques, his mother who had pale blue hair and hazel eyes was a commanding queen when she wanted to be, but most of the time you could call her ditzy. Daiki Jaegerjaquez, the king of Hueco Mundo. He had a rugged worn face, black hair and bright blue eyes. They sat down quietly, tension hanging in the air. Daiki opened his mouth.

"Son, I know you don't want to get married, but realise this is for the good of the Kingdom. I am getting old, and you need to find the next queen," he started.

Grimmjow slumped into a chair and pushed down his rising annoyance. His parents had been constantly reminding him of that fact. He didn't want a kingdom.

"Has it ever occurred to you that I might not _want _to marry? Or even rule a kingdom? I'm not the type of person to rule if you haven't noticed father. I spend more time in the training fields than court," he spat.

"I know you have it in you, you just have to-"

"I don't 'just have to' do anything. I'm sick of being cooped up in this place, and being surrounded by guards whenever I step a _foot _outside."

The King sighed. Grimmjow felt slightly bad, but held his tongue. It was true. He swore he was adopted, because the wild blood which ran in his veins told him he was fit for anything but ruling a kingdom.

"I'm not hungry," Grimmjow finally muttered as he scraped back his chair and stalked away.

"Grimm, darling, wait!" Michiko called after him desperately, but he paid her no mind. He swept up the stairs and stormed to his room before slamming the door shut. His 'room' was practically a suite, bed, table and bathroom all in one, even a fireplace for when the castle became colder than an ice cube in winter. Grimmjow sighed and flopped bonelessly onto his plush king-sized bed, flinging an arm over his eyes.

"I don't wanna to marry!" he grumbled.

"My lord? M-Master Kenpachi wants to talk to you!" a shaky voice called from outside his door.

Muttering curses under his breath, Grimmjow stood up and pushed open the door.

"Thanks Hanatarou."

"A-anytime, sir!" he squeaked.

Grimmjow sighed as he made his way down to the training grounds. As soon as he saw the gigantic spiky haired monster, Grimmjow flashed his trademark shark-grin, and raised a hand to greet the bloodthirsty man from the Kenpachi line.

"Kenny look! Grimmy-chan is here!" a pink haired midget squealed from where she clung to Kenpachi's shoulder. Zaraki Kenpachi was a fearsome warrior who retired from the front lines of the army and worked as a trainer for many young people who had no idea what they were asking for. Kenpachi glanced over and smirked at Grimmjow, his black eyepatch still in place over his left eye after he had lost it in war.

"Oyoyoy! Just the man I wanted to see," Kenpachi shouted over the din of metal swords clashing against each other.

"Hey _Kenny_, what'dya want?"

Kenpachi grimaced inwardly at the nickname, but he passed it off this time, he could beat Grimmjow up later in training. But right now, they had more important matters to discuss.

"Hey Grimmjow, you're parents givin' you hell yeah?"

Grimmjow looked at him quizzically. "Yeah, why?"

Kenpachi never asked how he was doing. He was more intent on beating him to pulp.

"You're friends were planning an escape for you. Couldn't stand seeing you mope and all that shit. Said that I'd be happy coz I got to fight ya more."

Grimmjow was gone by the time Kenpachi reached the word escape. He zoomed off to the hideout he had made with Szayel, Starrk, Nnoitra, Harribel, Nel and Ulquoirra. He slammed open the storage door and stared at his friends.

"GRIMMY!" Nel squealed and jumped up to crush him with her...largely gifted chest.

"Before you decide to kill him, I suggest we tell him of our plans," Ulquoirra deadpanned.

"We decided for you to take a break from your simpering princely duties. Be fucking glad we decided to even think about your welfare," Nnoitra scoffed.

"Please, can we quiet-" Szayel started.

"Jee thanks dipwad."

"Dipwad? Is that the best you got punk?"

"Better than what you've got _down there_ you shitstain!"

The two hotheaded boys growled at each other, getting in each others faces.

Meanwhile, Szayel sat on a ratty couch, ticks on his forehead slowly increasing as he closed his eyes and counted to ten. It didn't work.

"Can you all please SHUT. UP." A syringe twirled dangerously between two fingers.

Everybody froze. Szayel sighed and sank into the couch.

"Starrk, could you please brief our _dearest_ Grimmjow in our plan so the King and Queen will not notice? Starrk?

A faint snore.

"Dammit Starrk! You could at least pay a little more attention!"

"Mmhm? Wha's happening-owow, I'm sorry!" Starrk whined to Harribel as he rubbed his head painfully. Harribel gave him a comforting pat on his head, which seemed more like a punch. "You didn't have to hit me you know."

"Then pay attention."

"Alright, we're gonna leave you in a small house outside the boundaries of your kingdom. We have a contact there who is quite eager to show you what happens outside. If you're parents ask where you went, we'll just say you're gone for a vacation or something."

"Wait wait, I'm going _outside?!_" Grimmjow exclaimed. He'd never gone outside his gigantic kingdom in all his 22 years.

"Yea. You scared?" Nnoitra sneered.  
"Like hell!"

"Very well, let's meet at midnight, here."

"See you, suckers!"

"Farewell."

.:...:.

Grimmjow sighed as he left yet another meeting, he was tired but brightened up when he remembered the plans for tonight. He strode to his room and started flinging things into a gigantic bag: clothes, toiletries, and finally, his sword. He brushed his hand over the blue and white hilt and buckled it to his side. Other than that, he didn't really have any special things like other people did. He was always alone. He hefted his bag on his shoulder and glanced out the window. He couldn't walk out the door with a pair of ragged jeans and black t-shirt, that was for sure. People would ask questions and he would most definitely be stopped. A rope from a window above him should be tumbling down any second now. He leaned out the paneless window and peered up in time to see a coil of rope hit his nose.

"Ow, what the-?"

"Hurry up."

Of course they had to choose the emotionless Ulquoirra to help him escape. He sighed and rubbed his throbbing nose before sliding his bag down. He gripped the rope tightly and shimmied down, hoping that he wouldn't get rope burns. He blew out a breath when he reached the bottom safely.

"Ready to go Grimmjow?" Starrk asked from next to him. No matter how narcoleptic he may seem, he was always the most reliable. He was leading Kaze, Grimmjow's mare and Okami, his own mare. Surprisingly, their horses were friendly with each other while they were plain sassy to other horses.

"Let's go," Grimmjow muttered as he put his stuff into the saddle bags. Apparently, there was food in the house they were going to. Starrk was going to stay with him for the day until Grimmjow had settled in before riding back to the Kingdom. They muffled their horse's hooves and threw dark grey cloaks on themselves before setting out. They made it to the giant gates before 2am, and Grimmjow stared in awe at the towering trees and the glittering night sky you wouldn't be able to see from the Palace.

"Who goes?" a guard with a swinging lantern showed himself, narrow eyes squinting at the two suspisciously dressed figures. Starrk threw back his hood, exposing his well known face. The guard's eyes widened in recognition before bowing and retreating.

There was a wide dirt path that led into the dark gaping maw of the forest entrance. Grimmjow urged his mare on hesitantly and followed Starrk's lantern before the dark swallowed them whole.


	2. Journey and Revelation

**Chapter 2: Journey**

_**A/N: Thank you! I tried making this longer, but I have to study for an assessment tomorrow and I have a stomach ache...but thank you for the person who reviewed! It makes me happy! Anyway, here's a new chapter!**_

Grimmjow groaned as he tore his now tattered coat from another prickly branch that he swore was intent on killing him.

"I know I haven't been out here before, but your stories seem a lot better than it actually is."

Starrk was a top agent for the corps in Hueco Mundo, and he went out almost every week. When Grimmjow looked at him, the trees seemed to be parting for him, and there was not a single scratch.

"You just gotta learn to not storm through the path," Starrk yawned, "There's another 3 kilometres and we're there."

Grimmjow perked up. 3 kilometres weren't that bad. He rubbed Kaze's neck soothingly as she became restless with the tight space on the path.

A kilometre later, faint shouting and clinking was heard, along with the distinct whistling sound of a cracking whip. Grimmjow twisted around in his saddle to find the source of the noise, but all he saw was the darkness.

"What's that?" Grimmjow asked Starrk. He thought the forest was uninhabited.

"Nothing. You'll meet them tomorrow."

Grimmjow thought it might be his imagination, but Starrk's voice was sharper and more...angry? But Grimmjow brushed it off as tiredness; Starrk was always calm. Right?

.:...:.

Ichigo gritted his teeth and tears of pain beaded at the edge of his eyes. Shaggy locks of flaming orange hair covered the brown eyes which were sparking with anger. He felt another whiplash come mercilessly on his back. He grabbed onto his slipping consciousness as he saw black dotting his vision. He could feel the blood sliding down his sweaty back.

"Do you understand?! You don't just wander off you worthless slave!" the man in front of him yelled, spittle flying from his lips.

It wasn't his fault really. It was his five-minute break after building mortar blocks and leading the cattle down. He had heard something like horses going past, and his curiosity forced him to wander off his route. But his slave-master Buzz-B had seen him wander off and thought he was trying to escape. He didn't bother to try and explain. All the slave-masters took any chance to show the authority.

When the 40 lashes were over. Ichigo was roughly untied and salt water was poured onto his wounds and this time, he couldn't stop the groan of pain. Renji Abarai, one of his fellow slaves with bright red hair, rushed forwards and helped him up on shaky legs.

"Are you alright Ichigo?" Renji asked worriedly.

A small black haired midget stormed up to Renji and glared at him.

"Of course not you dolt! He just got whipped!" she hissed.

"I-I'm fine Rukia. It's not the first time anyway," Ichigo winced. His back felt like it was on fire. Rukia Kuchiki was a half noble through her sister who married Byakya Kuchiki in a neighbouring kingdom, Sereitei. Neibouring meaning a few hundred miles.

"We should get you back to the bunks. I think Orihime has something you could use."

"Thanks."

Ichigo squatted awkwardly to shuffe into one of the big makeshift tents with rough mattresses strewn on the floor.

"Orihime?"

"Kurosaki-kun!" she gasped. It was her sleeping shift and it was dark inside.

Orihime Inoue was once the daughter of an alchemist and she learned useful (albeit disgusting) concoctions which she hid in a box underground. Now, she dug it out and use some balmy green paste which she smeared all over Ichigo's back.

"You should stop causing trouble Kurosaki-kun! That way, you wouldn't be whipped so much!" Orihime scolded.

"Sorry Inoue," Ichigo muttered. Even though she had been through as much as he had, minus the whippings, she had retained an air of innocence Ichigo had not. He had a scowl on his face, and he had one before true, but before he would smile once in a blue moon. Now, he didn't smile at all. His two twin sisters, Yuzu and Karin, were like day and night. He had been in a poor village in the middle of nowhere, and he'd been working as a slave since he was seven. The memories of his previous life were too painful to remember, so he locked them away as best as he could.

"Kurosaki-kun?"

"Ah-sorry."

"You were spacing out..."

"I'm fine."

"Okay!" Orihime smiled, her hands waving around.

The tent flap snapped open and Rukia came in, a little out of breath.

"The Dickbag says you can rest in for your next three shifts," she panted.

Ichigo was confused. They never let him rest for so long, not even after he was whipped.

Rukia saw his confusion and elaborated, crinkling her face up in disgust.

"The Prince of Hueco Mundo, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, is coming over tomorrow."

Ichigo went into shock. What did a shitfaced royal want to do with them?

.:...:.

Grimmjow nearly whooped with relief when a small redbrick house appeared into view.

"My humble, unused house," Starrk mumbled half-asleep on his saddle.

"Ha! I bags shower first!" Grimmjow yelled. It felt nice to be free, with the swaying grass and the cool breeze. He leapt off Kaze, and led her to the two-horse stable. He brushed her down quickly, untacked her and filled the food troughs. He wandered to the front of the house just in time to see Starrk kick down the door.

'What the heck?' he frowned. "You sure this place is yours?"

Starrk caught him watching and coughed sheepishly.

"Eh heh, I lost the keys a while ago."

Grimmjow sighed and went in, lifting closing the door as he went in. Starrk flicked on the lights to show a homey, typical country house. A small kitchen in the corner, living room on the other sides and stairs in the middle leading up to the bedrooms. He went up the stairs and peeked into the door to his left, seeing a bathroom, grinned with joy and jumped into the shower, shucking off his clothes on the way. He stood under the shower head, feeling the blissful hot water wash away the grime from the journey.

"Oi! Don't take too long! There's not unlimited hot water!" Starrk shouted up.

"Yeah, okay!" Grimmjow hollered back.

He scrubbed himself and washed his hair and stepped out feeling completely refreshed. He redressed in casual clothes his parents would've killed him for. Charcoal grey button up shirt and tight white jeans. Completely unprincely. Completely comfortable.

"Your turn!" he yelled down at Starrk.

A returning grunt was all he got.

Grimmjow sidled his way into one of the rooms and plonked his stuff in it. He looked around the room and opened the windows, breathing in the fresh evening air. The rolling hills and forest. It made him feel alive. Not in some dingy castle. He felt the wind tousle his blue locks playfully. He set his things up in the room, setting Pantera on a stand next to his bed seeing as for the next two months anyway. He relaxed onto his bed and closed his eyes. Before he knew it, the recent events and the ache in his muscles from riding too long caught up with him and he drifted off.

.:...:.

Ichigo lay on his stomach smushing his face in his sweatstained pillow, wondering and puzzling over the fact that the prince had wanted to visit this place of all places. What, did he get bored with his easy life? Ha! He scowled and turned his face to the other side, causing a twinge in his back. He didn't even want to see the face of the man who fed off the food they farmed, lived in the palace they had built. How could someone be so oblivious to their pain? Ichigo scoffed. Some prince he was, Ichigo thought drowsily before he felt the familiar tug of sleep.

.:...:.

_The next day..._

Ichigo awoke to the sounds of the slave-masters yelling, and the slaves around him groaning as they got up. He sat up stiffly, mindful of his back. He re-bandaged his back, and saw they were already scabbing. In the end, Orihime's potions got them all through. He tried a smile in the mirror shard he was using. It looked like he was being strangled. The smile fell quickly. He sighed and tucked it back under his pillow. He put on his ragged white shirt on, it it could even be called white. It was streaked with dirt and sweat. He cringed as it brushed against his healing cuts. He traipsed outside, and realised the morning assembly was already starting. He slipped into the row behind Rukia, because they were arranged into alphabetical order according to last names. Their slave-master, Bazz-B, was shouting out from a raised platform.

"Today, Prince Jaegerjaquez from the Hueco Mundo Kingdom is coming. Be good or you'll face punishment, and for some of you, again I'd say," he sneered looking at Ichigo. He glared back.

"Be on your best behaviour. That's all."

They dispersed, each going to their shifts; farming, mixing bricks, mining, or transporting cattle.

"I hate this place," Ichigo muttered under his breath.

.:...:.

Grimmjow groaned as the sunlight filtered through the blinds and hitting Grimmjow squarely on the eyes.

"Ugh.." he mumbled as he got up. He smelt sizzling bacon on the pan and followed it like a bloodhound, nose in the air until his arrived at the kitchen where Starrk was cooking.

"Morning sleepyhead," Starrk yawned, still half-asleep.

"Morning," Grimmjow muttered.

Neither were morning people so they sat and ate breakfast in silence.

"I'll be leaving this afternoon, after I bring you back from where we're going today. Not telling," Starrk said.

Grimmjow pouted childishly and Starrk chuckled.

"Since you fell asleep in your clothes, let's go."

They rode their horses through the tall grass until they got to a place that looked like a war base. Dusty tents and a big one in the middle. Grimmjow tied Kaze up at a station and followed Starrk. Creepily enough, the place was empty.

"Where's everyone?" he asked Starrk.

"Working."

He stayed silent for the rest of the way to the middle. When they reached the central tent, Starrk knocked on the metal post of the tent.

"Come in," a lazy voice drawled. Starrk and Grimmjow ducked into the tent, and Grimmjow blinked to adjust to the musty darkness. Grimmjow focused on the person behind the desk. A strange man with a pink mohawk was smoking a tobacco and his feet was kicked up onto the desk.

Grimmjow took an instant disliking.

"Bazz-B," Starrk stated blandly.

"Yo, wassup Starrk."

"Please refrain your rough manner in front of the prince."

"Oh, don't be so cold now," Bazz-B smirked. He turned to the Prince. "Ahh, Prince Jaegerjaquez, I am to be obliged to show you what happens outside your _delightful _kingdom."

He stood up and bowed, but it seemed like he was mocking him instead. Grimmjow raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn't reply. Bazz-B didn't seem to like other people ignoring him, and a frown flickered across his face.

"Would you like to survey our labours?" Bazz-B tried.

"Labours...?" Grimmjow questioned.

"Oh, so he has yet to know?" Bazz-B grinned at Starrk.

The silence served as an answer.

"Very well, kindly follow me." Bazz-B stood up and swept out the tent grandly, gesturing for them to follow him.

"Whatever you do, don't kill him," Starrk murmured to Grimmjow. Now Grimmjow was curious as to what Starrk meant.

Bazz-B was standing on top of a small incline and he seemed to be smirking at what he saw below.

"Come see, your highness," he invited.

Grimmjow sauntered up to the incline and looked down, his eyes widening with shock and horror. Nothing could've prepared what he saw. There were hundreds, no thousands of slaves laboring in farms, and fields, no hats and plenty of whips.

"What is the meaning of this?!" he glared at Bazz-B.

"This is what has been supporting and feeding your kingdom since it was built," Bazz-B said.

Still shocked, Grimmjow turned to Starrk behind him who nodded tiredly. He turned back to the scene in front of him, and said,

"And I never knew?"

_**A/N: I still haven't studied T^T. I did my best to make it longer, and just saying, I do this as a hobby. I read too much FanFiction for my own good. ^^; Please, pretty please review. I know authors say it a lot, but now I write I feel their pain.**_


	3. Meeting

**Chapter 3: Meeting**

_**A/N: I'm sorry I haven't updated, but I guess it wasn't that long. Nobody really reads the author's note so...on with the fic! XD**_

After getting over his initial shock, Grimmjow was, to be blunt, livid. He had no idea what had been providing his kingdom, and he hadn't been bothered about it before. But now seeing what it cost, let's just say he didn't like it much...OK, very much. He didn't see why people had to be treated like animals.

"I demand an explanation! Right now! Why are all these people shackled up like animals?" he snarled, rounding on Bazz-B.

"Like I said, they farm to feed your kingdom, they-" Bazz-B started but was cut off by a pissed Grimmjow.

"I _know _that. But why are there _slaves _do the job? Look how skinny they are! Do you even feed them properly?"

Bazz-B frowned. "Of course we do, otherwise they wouldn't be in sufficient working order."

"So basically you just feed them so they can work. Not because they actually need food to _live._"

"You seem to understand the concept."

Grimmjow could see red. He wanted to beat this guy up so bad it physically pained him.

"I would suggest you calm down Grimmjow. Unless you want to be sent back to the palace," Starrk murmured.

Grimmjow deflated noticeably. He didn't want to go back to that stressful place.

"For now, I suggest I give you a tour."

**.:...:.**

Ichigo hefted up the big limestone block and nearly staggered from its weight. He teetered dangerously to the side before he hastily straightened himself. Staggering to the pile on the wheely wooden platform, he dumped it down and stretched, feeling his bones pop and he sighed with relief.

"No slacking!"

Ichigo scowled dangerously and brushed his shoulder length and shaggy hair away from his sweaty forehead. He took up to lead rope attached to the platform and started pulling it, straining against the rope. He was glad that his back was already starting to heal.

"ALL HAIL! THE PRINCE GRIMMJOW JAEGERJAQUEZ OF HUECO MUNDO IS HERE!"

Ichigo looked up from under his hair, still straining against the rope and looked to the Announcement Hill. His eyes widened as he saw sky blue hair.

'So he really is here,' Ichigo thought.

"Never thought the high and mighty snob'd come to this dusty hell hole," someone muttered beside him. Inwardly, Ichigo agreed whole-heartedly. It wasn't like the royal family to visit the slaves in the wilderness. He sighed as he ditched his load and smirked as one of the slave-drivers cursed colourfully at the extremely heavy cart rolling rolling down towards him. Ichigo followed the crowd to the bottom of the hill. All the slaves stared at Grimmjow silently, wondering why on earth the prince would come here.

**.:...:.**

Grimmjow looked down at all the dirty slaves, and pitied them. How could they even survive here? His cobalt blue eyes scanned over them before double-taking. Orange? He looked closely, and even through all the grit and dust, the hair was significantly bright orange. The teenager didn't look like he was a month more than 17 years old. Long orange bangs hid the boy's eyes, and he was looking off to the side, talking to a...red pineapple? Grimmjow didn't even question, considering his own hair colour.  
Most of the slaves were either sneering at him or glaring at him, and supposed that was natural. Of course the slaves hated the guy who made them work like this. _But he hadn't known_. Grimmjow stood there, feeling a little stupid, until the orange haired boy looked at him. He flinched. The amount of hatred in those eyes were astounding. Yeah, he knew they disliked him, but not as much as this person. Molten brown eyes glared at him, and it almost took his breath away. Ragged, torn clothes hung onto his thin yet lean and muscular frame. Then he spat. On the floor. At _me_. He turned to saunter off, but a watching man grabbed the orangette's arm who started to struggle. Grimmjow started.

"What are you going to do with him?" Grimmjow asked Bazz-B curiously.

"Watch and learn."

Grimmjow followed Bazz-B down the hill and followed the crowd. He pushed his way to the front, but Bazz-B manoeuvred his way to the wooden box at the front, smirking widely the whole time.

"This is how we punish disobedient slaves."

**.:...:.**

Ichigo scowled as he was tied to the whipping post _yet again_. He only hoped it wouldn't reopen his older wounds. 10 lashings only this time. 'Can't look bad in front of the prince,' he thought bitterly.

He bit down tightly on the piece of leather given and did his best not to scream. He couldn't keep the pain at bay. After the 40 lashings yesterday, his back was still too sore. 'It was my fault though,' he thought faintly before he blacked out.

**.:...:.**

Grimmjow watched on in disbelief as they wrenched off his shirt. His eyes widened when he saw the mess of his back. Silvery scars made their way across every inch on his back and a bunch of scabbing wounds looked fresh.

_'And they want to give him __**more?**_" he thought.

"Wait, stop!" he shouted.

Bazz-B frowned at him quizzically.

"Is there something wrong my lord?" he asked.

The whipper hesitated and stopped. Grimmjow turned to look at Starrk, and was shocked when he saw him looking to the side, looking for all the world, down right pissed.

"...Starrk?" There was no reply. He leaped over the wooden barrier and ignored the shocked murmurs travelling between the slaves. He untied the poor guy and caught a fainted whimper of pain.

"Who gave you the right to whip people?" Grimmjow glared at Bazz-B.

Bazz-B stared right back.

"Your parents did."

**.:...:.**

Ichigo came to consciousness with an aching back. He licked his dry lips and swallowed, feeling the uncomfortable dryness of his throat. He opened bleary eyes and went to wipe the sleep away, but stopped when he felt a painful tug on his mauled back. He cringed and waited for the mind blowing pain to stop, but it didn't. He shifted cautiously and took the time to look around. He frowned. He wasn't in his barracks, or in the infirmary. Ichigo sighed as a felt a cool breeze through the window. Wait, window? His eyes flew open and he turned his head to see a small open window and curtains flapping before settling again, hiding the view. But it was enough for Ichigo. Did he just see...trees and grass. Just where was he? He struggled up, the pain nearly taking his breath away, but he had to see if it was real. He swung his legs off the bed his chains clanking as he sat up, wait wait wait...bed? He was astounded. Was this heaven? He stood up slowly and his jelly legs almost buckled beneath him. He hobbled over to the window and pushed back the curtains. Yes, it was real. Swaying grass and trees were as real as life. He collapsed back onto the bed, face-first and sighed blissfully.

"I can see you're awake," a voice at the door commented amusedly. Ichigo jumped and turned quickly, hissing at the pain. But that wasn't important right now. Why was the blue-haired prince here. He looked around, panicking and his eyes fell on the sword on the next to the prince's hip. Oh shit shit shit, what was he going to do?

"I'm not going to kill you, you know."

"No, I don't know!" Ichigo snapped back. "Where am I? Why are you here?"

"That's a lot of questions, orange."

"So? Answer them...blue," Ichigo retorted.

A deep rumbling laugh emitted from Grimmjow, startling Ichigo.

"You shouldn't be talking to me like that you know. I am the prince after all."

Ichigo paled. Oh crap, how much worse could this get?

"II'm s-sorry Your H-highness," he forced the words out from clenched teeth.

"Just call me Grimmjow."

"..."

"..."

"Are you hungry?"

Ichigo's stomach answered for him, grumbling loudly as if to say, 'Well, whaddaya think?'

Grimmjow chuckled, and beckoned for him to come.

"Come on, food's downstairs."

Ichigo stood up shakily and clanked his way forward, wincing at the chafes on his wrists and ankles. Grimmjow frowned.

"We'll get those off after."

"What?! You can't do that. You don't have the authority to-"

"Authority of what?" Grimmjow smirked. "I'm the fucking prince."

"Asshole," Ichigo muttered.

_**A/N: Soooo, what do you think? I haven't gotten many ideas so far, so please give me any suggestions or such. Pretty please review, with a cherry on top?**_


	4. The Bloody Past

**Chapter 4: The Bloody Past**

_**A/N: I'M SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED. I was swamped with maths homework, that and I couldn't think of what to write. I haven't gotten any inspiration, but I told myself to stop being lazy if you want more reviews, so here you are, the next chapter.**_

**Warning: Coarse language**

_**Italics = Thoughts**_

After a delicious meal of roast chicken, potato and carrots which he threw up a minute later, he collapsed onto the fluffy bed. His shackles were off and he wanted to roll around in the softness, but he didn't want to re-open his wounds. Ichigo only had his ragged pants because hey, who wanted some dirty material infecting their cuts? So he just lay there, face down and motionless. He let the cool evening breeze soothe his back and wondered how the prince could be so naïve to what happened around him. I mean seriously, who the heck wouldn't know that they ruled an entire slave army?

He sighed and turned his face to the side so he could breathe better only to be met with blue eyes.

"What the fu-!" Ichigo yelled. He scrambled up the best he could, ready to sucker-punch someone's face in. He winced as his back almost creaked with the sudden movement.

Grimmjow raised his hands trying to calm him down.

"Whoa, calm down it's just me. I just wanted to ask what your name is."

"Just you? What do you mean _just me_," Ichigo scoffed. "You don't need my name."

"I demand it."

Ichigo scowled, sick and tired of being the lower class who was used for doing other people's work, and being _demanded _for things. He'd already given up everything he had and-

"You have a problem with me berry?"

_Berry? Well, he hadn't heard __**that**__ name in ages._

"How do you know-" Ichigo started, when he saw Grimmjow looking at the name tag scrawled on the shackles.

Ichigo shook away the ghosts, and instead of beating up the guy, he let an almost nostalgic smile flit pass his lips. He remembered he used to beat up anyone who called him a strawberry. But why stop?

"Hey, you okay?" Grimmjow frowned.

"Yeah, I-I'm fine," Ichigo murmured distracted with his thoughts as he swung his fist forward absent-mindedly, paying no heed to the muffled shriek as it connected with the Prince's nose.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Minutes later, Ichigo was sweating nervously as the Prince fixed his nose, and dabbed blood from it. Inside, he was glowing with joy, but he didn't want to be _executed _for it. Coughing, Ichigo pulled the nice guy act and faced Grimmjow.

"So, what great need does the great Prince have to be here?"

"Stupid fucking parents want me to be married off to some random princess and told me to act like prince that I am."

"Who'd you have to get married to?"

"Cirucci Sanderwicci from some random kingdom."

Ichigo froze, the name striking a bolt of anger, fear and frustration. _Cirucci, huh? _

"I'm going back tomorrow aren't I," Ichigo muttered bitterly.

"Well, what if I said that you weren't?," Grimmjow joked.

Ichigo's eyes widened and hope filled him. He didn't have to go back to that hell hole?

"Really?" Ichigo asked doubtfully.

Grimmjow was shocked. It was a joke! But those eyes burned him to the core.

"No." The word slipped out before Grimmjow could stop it.

Ichigo blinked before what he said had registered. _Bastard! He raised my hopes and crushed them! I guess they're all the same huh? Nobody knows the feeling of freedom until they've lost it._

He wasn't going to say anything. The bastard didn't need to hear what he had done. _What he had done_. Memories flashed past his eyes as he desperately tried to think of something else. Screams were ringing in his ears, the coppery scent of blood was choking him, oh god...

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Ichigo had gone completely still, his face as blank as stone. He'd been like that for the last few seconds.

"Hey, buddy, you okay in there?" Grimmjow tried. Nothing would get to him. Grimmjow was really starting to worry. What was he thinking about?

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

"_Okaa-san! Where are we going?" Ichigo asked. He was a child of around 12, and he'd been at the illegal dojo in his dusty town with no name. Suddenly, his mother Masaki had appeared, and excused Ichigo from their lesson. As he was pulled through the town, it was strangely empty. He was stumbling to keep up with his mother who was looking around almost fearfully._

_When they went around the corner and saw their house, relief flooded through Masaki as she hushed Ichigo._

"_Ichi, you have to keep very quiet okay?"_

_He nodded but didn't understand why. He was pulled, racing towards the house when he accidentally scuffed his shoe causing a rock to roll and hit a metal post sign._

_Tink._

_Masaki froze for a second before running even faster. They were almost to the porch when thundering hooves skidded in front of them. A white horse was snorting and tossing it's head and Ichigo leaped back in fright._

"_Well, well, well and here we thought we had to go back empty handed. Gather 'em up boys!" It was a female's voice, an arrogant snooty voice of someone who knew they had power. Ichigo slowly looked up, seeing a smirking woman with purple curly pigtails .  
Masaki pushed her boy behind her back._

"_Please, take me instead and let my son go!"_

"_Che, that's what they all say." Cirucci muttered boredly and looked at her fingernails._

"_Take them both."_

"_No, wait please-!" _

"_Take them!"_

_Masaki threw herself forward spooking the exhausted horse who skittered away causing Cirucci to tumble down._

"_Run Ichigo!"_

_The distinct sound of a gun being cocked made Ichigo freeze, feeling like a bucket of ice cold water had been poured down his back. His mother stumbled, and fell, her eyes always full of love dimming._

"_Okaa-san..."_

_Ichigo looked down in horror while the blood soaked the hard packed earth, his mother's vibrant burnt orange hair so much like his own splayed out like the last glow of sunset._

"_Fool! Not much you can do to protect your boy now hmm?"_

_Ichigo was shocked, his vision going black before an eerie, watery voice echoed in his ears._

"_Ya gonna go down like this? Pitiful, I expected better of you."_

_His eyes were starting to bleed black, gold anger lighting up his usually warm brown eyes. He charged towards Cirucci, grabbing a sharp rock from the ground and slashing it down her cheek. Chaos reigned as her men drew weapons. Ichigo raised his hand again, slashing down her other cheek. Cirucci seemed to be crying blood at his point, and she screamed._

"_Get him away from me!" _

_A sharp pain at the base of his skull caused his vision to fade._

"_OKAA-SAN!"_

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Grimmjow sat there, unsure what to do when Ichigo started whimpering, and a faint cry escaping his lips over and over again. He leaned closer and managed to make out a wisp of the word.

Okaa-san.

Oh.

He sat back and could only wait for the orange haired man to wake up from his bloody nightmares.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

_Flashes._

_The sound of screams._

_The taste of blood._

_The feel of cold metal._

_The troupe shuffled across the dirty streets, dirty and ragged clothed, their heads bowed. All broken, their eyes empty, void. All except for one. His eyes were burning with defiance, with hatred. But they echoed with what everyone could see. Revenge._

_**A/N: I was crying. Inside. This is all un-betaed so tell me if there are any mistakes. But I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, It took me forever to think of something. Your reviews fired me up! XD**_


	5. Nightmares to Haunt You

**Chapter 5: The Nightmares of the Past**

_**A/N: I have no excuse. *Prostrates* I think I was just too lazy, and also because homework is such a drag. But, miraculously, here's another chapter I managed to pull out of my mind. Honestly? My brain juices are leaking out. It's the holidays.**_

**Warning: Coarse language**

**Italics = Thoughts or memories/flashbacks**

Ichigo blinked his eyes furiously, trying to shove the terrifying memories back into the box in the back of his mind. The past was burning itself into the back of his eyelids, flooding back every single time he closed them. It was no wonder he had grey smudges under his eyes.

"Ugh..." he mumbled to himself. His throat felt like sandpaper, and he swallowed painfully, trying to moisten it. Just how long had he been sitting there?

"Berry?" a voice rasped next to his ear.

Ichigo would've jumped out of his skin if it didn't feel like he had weights dragging down every single limb. He shifted his head a little, too tired to even turn his head.

"Don't call me that," Ichigo replied. But it had no fire in it, more like an automated response than a retort. It had been ingrained into his brain after saying it for almost half his time as a little kid.

"Yeah, well until you tell me your last name, I'm going to keep calling you Berry. I can't take you seriously when I say your first name," Grimmjow snarked back.

To his disappointment, Ichigo stayed silent without any sign of even hearing him. Half of Grimmjow was pissed at being ignored; he was the Prince for god's sake nobody ignored him; and the other half was worried for Ichigo. He didn't know what had happened when he'd spaced out.

"Soo, care to tell me what happened?" Grimmjow asked.

"No. Why would you care? You have no business with me, or any of us really."

"Whoo, cold and blunt,' Grimmjow thought.

"Well, for one you're staying with me right now, and two-"

"Right, now. So what happens later?"

"I-..." Grimmjow started, but frowned when he couldn't think of anything. He looked down at the teen next to him, and noticed a strange sad ghost of a smile, like he knew what was going to happen.

"Yeah, I thought so too."

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Unknown to Grimmjow, Ichigo was still thinking over his memories from ten years ago. He had to distance himself from this...comfortable style of living as well as Grimmjow who, aside from all appearances and attitude, was still a noble. And nobles had power, something extremely dangerous to people like Ichigo. One word and you say hello to the Shinigami.

Ichigo knew that you couldn't escape slavery, not unless someone with a sizable amount of power and influence bought you. Either that, or death. Ichigo wasn't sure which one was worse especially when most nobles were unsufferable idiots.

He sat there, on the edge of the bed vacantly staring at his calloused hands. How much time had passed he didn't know, and Grimmjow was just sitting next to him being the lump of prince he was.

'Well, at least Grimmjow isn't like the other self-important nobles. In fact, he's actually quite hot – waitwaitwait. What?'

Ichigo scrambled to get his thoughts into order. He knew he wasn't exactly the straightest person around, but that was no excuse to go around checking out Crown Princes.

He sighed tiredly, the day finally catching up to him. Ichigo was dead tired and he could feel his eyelids grow heavy as they slowly drifted shut. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep, his head careening sideways.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Grimmjow snapped his head around his surprise as he was shocked from his morbid thoughts from a heavy weight settled on his shoulder. He craned his neck back to peer down at the mop of orange hair resting on his shoulder. Only then did Grimmjow realise that Ichigo was actually sleeping on him.

Sitting stiffly in place, Grimmjow tried to ignore the heat radiating off the body next to him. In the late evening breeze and birds chirping merrily, Grimmjow could see why Ichigo had fallen asleep. Relaxing slightly, he shifted them around so that he was leaning against the wall, and Ichigo was sleeping on him. Letting his head thump gently onto the wall, Grimmjow sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

"Meh, might as well take a cat nap."

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Somewhere in the slave facility, a short purple haired woman with purple tattoos on her cheeks cantered in on her high horse, looking down at the slaves snobbishly.

"Che, dirt," she muttered, spurring her horse on towards the middle causing dust to fly up in the faces of the slaves. She halted her horse roughly, yanking back on the reins. Sliding off with a thump, she strode up into the tent and yanked open the tent flap. Bazz-B looked up sharply from his nail filer and glared suspisciously at the woman.

"What's your business in here?" he asked warily.

The woman smiled, a sickly sweet one and inspected her fingernails as she replied,

"Just looking for a male slave to tote my luggage around. And a pretty one as well."

Bazz-B kicked his legs off the table and stood up browsing through the scrappy book of all the male slaves.

"Mhmm," he mumbled as he flicked through them. Suddenly he stopped and pivoted to stare at the woman. A grin quirked his lips up and he had a sadistic glint in his eye.

"Do you like 'em feisty, milady?" he asked, grinning widely.

"Depends. Will they work for me easily?" she scowled.

"...probably not."

"What does he look like?"

"Well, we still have yet to get a picture of him when he's not fighting, but he has orange hair."

"Orange huh...I'll take him," she said unexpectedly, grinning on the inside. Oh man, how she loved breaking people. Orange hair...it triggered a memory from long ago, but she could not remember it. It slipped away from her grasp.

"Very well. Come back in a few days to collect him," Bazz-B rubbed his hands together in glee. Money was on the way.

"Why can't I just take him now?" she snapped impatiently. She wanted to see this slave. Maybe then she'd remember.

"This one went MIA a few days ago, but we know exactly where he is, Miss...?"

The woman stopped in her tracks and tilted her head slightly back, a hint of a feral grin visible.

"Just call me Cirruci."

_**A/N: TBC...Didya like it? Please review...it took me ages to make this with the last dregs of ideas. It's currently 12:29am, so just tell me if there are any grammatical errors. I feel like I'm going to face-keyboard my laptop, so I'll end it here. Bai.**_


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